Araminta
by xWintra
Summary: Araminta Solariin wasn't a Jedi, far from it. When the assassin trained from childhood is tasked with killing a man named Obi-Wan Kenobi for an anonymous job, she realised she had been uninformed of her target's powerful Jedi identity. Left sitting in front of the Council, a failure, and awaiting punishment, Araminta's saving grace came in the form of Anakin Skywalker.


**Prologue  
The Octavian**

* * *

The streets were a mess, people moving around in a spur of dirt and rain underneath the trees that formed a canopy over the town. Everyone in sight was either hurrying to get out of the rain or finding any available way to protect themselves from the downpour. Moisture hung in the air, making one person in particular very uncomfortable in their hood and cloak.

Araminta Solariin was sat against a wall, her eyes scanning the passers-by from underneath her hood, quickly going over every face in sight. She reached up a hand and moved some strands of her dark, damp hair from her face, tucking them behind her large, pointed ear. She continued to scan the people passing her, the face of her target engraved in her mind.

Araminta had never particularly liked the rain or tropical environments – growing up on a cold planet the constant humidity in the air was a bother to the nineteen-year-old girl. But she supposed she had to suck it up. This was where her latest assignment had taken her. The target was supposed to be here, it'd been set up by her superior. All Araminta needed to do was slit his throat and leave.

The girl tensed, her eyes narrowing as she spotted her target amongst the crowd, heading straight towards her. He wasn't old, but was definitely old enough to be considered a man, and had golden hair that just touched his shoulders. Araminta had no idea why she was killing him, and she tried not to care. The man had a friendly face, but a nicer price on his head. Araminta tapped her four fingers against her boot impatiently, the knife she'd hidden there feeling heavy.

Her target was accompanied by a boy, who couldn't have been much older than Araminta herself. The pair passed her, completely oblivious to the hooded girl, who slowly rose to her feet once they'd cleared her. She kept up behind them, moving quietly and quickly so as not to lose them. As she hurried to keep up, Araminta reached under her cloak, feeling the hilt of her other knife against her hip. She kept moving; now wasn't the time to attack, not surrounded by so many people.

She continued to trail her target, and when she deduced that the pair were heading into a back alley, she saw her opportunity. She knew she had to separate them, make it subtle and avoid making a scene. While some of her squad members went for the direct approach, Araminta preferred a swift and silent.

One of the surrounding wooden buildings, though flimsy and rickety, held a staircase up to a small balcony, which Araminta cleared in seconds. She grabbed the eave above her, bare palms clinging to it easily as she effortlessly pulled herself onto the roof, her unusually large, pale eyes scanning for her target from above. Her iris and pupil were hardly indistinguishable in their white shade, while the sclera around them was black, making the pale orbs even more noticeable.

Araminta narrowed her eyes as they relocked onto her target, who was heading into a back alley, and she began moving. Her footfalls were completely silent as she paced along the rooves, perfectly balanced by her tail, until she was practically right on top of the pair. She landed swiftly behind them just as they were halfway through the back alley. She unsheathed one of her knives and sprinted forward, silently, prepared to drive her blade into the side of her target's neck; quick and efficient. She'd deal with his companion in moments.

Things, as always, didn't go to plan. Araminta was a step off striking distance when the man suddenly wheeled around, as if he'd _sensed_ her coming. Surprised, the girl changed her tactic, instead leaping forward. The pair ducked to the side as Araminta flipped over them, now placing them on opposite sides of the alleyway. Araminta cursed in a foreign language as she turned to face them, her cover completely blown and the blade in her hand gleaming in the dim light.

The two looked at her cautiously, scanning her up and down, from the weapon she carried to the clothes she wore, to her carefully braided hair, to the deep blue shade of her skin and the spotted markings that dotted various parts of it. The entire exchanged lasted only a few seconds.

"You're an Adané," the older man observed, surprising Araminta by how calm he was and how he focused on _that_ aspect of her. "Surprised to see you in daylight."

"Hilarious," she deadpanned, spinning her knife nimbly in her hand before holding it up in a ready stance. Despite her mere height of five feet, she had taken far larger opponents in her time, and her strength came from learning to adapt to a situation. However, the pair in front of her reached for their belts and drew a pair of lightsabres. Araminta's eyes widened. "Oh, that's a problem," she murmured to herself, realising the two in front of her were fucking _Jedi_.

The boy charged first, as Araminta would've expected from a padawan. He was good, she had to admit. Quick-paced and precise, yet his blows were heavy and hard for him to recover from and slip back into an active stance. It only took Araminta a few dodges, the blue lightsabre whirring past her, before she landed a hard blow to his flank, her heel connecting with his delicate ribs.

Araminta watched him wince, freezing up for a second, before he charged straight at her. The Adané girl rolled her eyes. He was wasting her time. The next blow of blue light directed at her, she flipped over, easily clearing his head and landed on the other side of him, placing herself between the padawan and her _actual_ target.

The boy's eyes zeroed in on the scar tissue on her right shoulder where her sleeve had been pushed upwards. "Wait, that brand–"

Feeling suddenly violated, Araminta struck out with renewed vigour, letting out a yell as she threw the boy away without touching him. He looked at her, confused, but Araminta whipped around to her actual target.

"An impressive show," he remarked, seeming the least bit phased.

"Flattered," Araminta responded, playfully. "But he's not the one I want," she added, flicking a braid over her shoulder.

"Now _I'm_ flattered." The man sounded civil, teasing even, but the way he spun his lightsabre suggested otherwise.

Araminta heard him before anything else, before she'd even sensed his oncoming attack. Her large and pointed ears accustomed to navigating the distant sounds and echoes of her species' cave habitat heard the boy moving, activating his lightsabre behind her. She had to hand it to the old man, he didn't give away any signs that his sidekick was rising behind her.

She spun around just as the boy had raised his weapon and gave him a wink. She flipped back to avoid the swipe, coming to land comfortably on the wall, suspended there by her bare feet. The boy's eyes widened. "How did you–?"

Araminta didn't let him finish, instead leaping forward off the wall, spinning mid-air to avoid yet another swipe aimed at, swinging around and sending her heel into his cheek. He hit the other wall of the alley, the useless hilt of his fabled Jedi weapon clattering off to the side. A second later Araminta's knife landed in the middle of his dominant hand, lodging itself in the wall behind it. Araminta landed nimbly, unsheathing her second knife, while the boy let out a yell at being knifed through the hand to the wall.

And just in time as her actual target came at her.

He had activated his lightsabre but Araminta fought with precision accuracy, even if she was forced largely into defensive tactics. The man was decades ahead of his padawan, and therefore decades ahead of Araminta, who had just eleven years of training under her belt but only two years in the field.

After what felt like minutes of dodging and spinning around, nimbly, Araminta avoided a lethal swipe and caught his wrist, pressing it away from her face with her wrist, while her hand gripped the knife, the blade gritting against the hilt of the sabre. It became a match of brute strength, a man aged and experienced, and a young Adané with strength beyond her tiny size.

"You're an Octavian, aren't you?" the man asked suddenly.

"And what's it to you?" Araminta spat, knowing he was trying to shake her just enough to land a hit and gain the advantage.

"Taken in as a child, trained to kill… convinced you're doing the right thing." The man increased his pressure and Araminta was glad for her bent knees to stop her from buckling to the ground. "Tell me, you're getting paid for this, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah," she replied casually, eyes narrowing in on a weak spot. "And you're worth quite a lot."

Araminta dropped the knife from the hand blocking the man's sabre and caught it with her other, swiftly moving away and leaving the man pressing on nothing but thin air. Taking his moment of weakness, Araminta kicked him in the gut. She spun in before he could fully recover, dodging his swipe at her. She twisted her body backwards, her knife aimed from the back of her hand for his throat. He managed to duck, the blade nicking his neck, as he took a firm hold of her wrist and used it to slam her to the ground on her back. Araminta's knife fell from her grasp as she let out a groan.

"Surrender now," the man said, sabre hovering at Araminta's throat. Behind him, his padawan had recovered, his blood running down his hand and into the dust.

The Adané girl wasn't down, not by a longshot. But the situation was off, and years of training told her this wasn't a mistake. She had been sent after two highly trained Force-sensitives, whose training and abilities could rival any of Octavian. Araminta knew she could beat them, probably, maybe.

But she hadn't been told they were Jedi, some of the few people in the universe who had training to rival Octavian's, and the ability to punish and hold them credible for their crimes. And, after what she had done, she didn't doubt that they'd kill her. The anonymous job, the unusually high-price, the lack of information on the assignment, Octavian handpicking her over her squad members and sending her in _alone_.

She'd been set up.

She'd been set up.

 _She'd been set up_.

Araminta's expression shifted, the padawan noticing it, as the sabre at her throat cast a light blue glow on her features. Araminta met the eyes of the man. "No." He stumbled as Araminta's tail coiled around his ankle, pulling it out from under him, the lightsabre leaving its place at Araminta's neck as her mind raced.

She'd been set up. The job didn't matter, the money didn't matter. She wouldn't get anything out of killing this man now. She knew she had to get away.

Araminta removed a sphere from her belt and threw it forward, rolling around the Jedi's feet before it erupted into smoke. More accustomed to moving around with limited vision from early years spent living in the caves of her home planet, Araminta fled the scene.

It clearly wasn't going to be that easy as she heard the man yell out 'Anakin, go!' Araminta cursed as she realised the boy was pursuing her, his steps thundering behind her. She upped her pace, sprinting out of the empty alley and straight into the bustling, crowded market. Though, really it was an assortment of narrow and wide alleyways overcrowded by shady folk scrounging to survive. The slums.

Araminta flipped over a stall, threw a bin behind and even knocked over a cart of fruit, all to stall Anakin, but it wasn't working. She saw a larger passage coming up, the area divided by a line of stalls in the middle. Araminta ducked through the crowd, using her height as an advantage to go through unseen, and broke into the left side of the alley. Victory wasn't hers, however, as she looked to the side and saw Anakin running parallel to her, separated only by the various stalls flashing by them. The moment there was a break in them, Anakin threw himself to the side, slamming Araminta to the ground as he grabbed her, the two rolling along in the dirt. People around them let out shouts of surprise and backed up.

"Why did you run?" Anakin hissed, gripping both Araminta's wrists and holding her arms wide against the ground, effectively pinning her.

"I wasn't going to kill you _or_ him anymore," Araminta snarled.

The boy's eyes widened. "What?"

"You should've just let me go." Araminta's voice had a lethal edge to it. Despite her aching side, Araminta brought up her leg, rattling Anakin enough for her to pull free from his grip and throw herself on top. She pinned down Anakin with her legs and pulled another knife from her other boot, which she held horizontally at his throat.

"You're good," she breathed, panting slightly from their sprint. "But not good enough," she added lowly. Araminta looked Anakin in the eye, her hand steady as she drew blood, but didn't do any more damage.

She hesitated.

And that was her downfall.

Araminta let out a cry as the side of her head erupted with pain. She dropped the knife and fell to the side, her world darkening around. She attempted to sit up, but failed. She let out a groan, gently touching a hand to her head, pulling it away to see her silver blood spotting her fingertips. Araminta looked up to see her original target holding his deactivated lightsabre, the hilt of it coloured with her blood, just before she blacked out.

* * *

To say Araminta Solariin was pissed was an understatement. She was livid. She'd gotten herself caught, by the Jedi no less. She'd failed her assignment miserably and didn't need any sort of confirmation to know that Octavian would've given up on her by now. She would not be welcomed back to her 'home' after such a failure. The Adané girl came to on her target – she'd learnt his name was Obi Wan – and Anakin's ship, her hands bound tightly behind. Araminta knew she could escape – she'd trained in harsher situations – but the will to fight was lost on her. She had nowhere to go now. Octavian wasn't coming back for her, and she had nowhere else to go.

When Obi-wan noticed she was awake, he had come over and politely talked her down, but was met with only stubbornness and refusal to cooperate. As he finished his initial speech, Araminta just arched an eyebrow and said, "Ah… a charmer, I see."

"What's your name?" he began again.

"What do you care?" she said back, completely casual, as if she were talking with an old friend.

"Well, I would prefer to know the name of the person who tried to assassinate me," Obi-wan replied, taking on the playfulness he had displayed during his combat with Araminta.

"Yeah and I wanted to be able to go home and get my money, we all have wishes, _Jedi_ ," she hissed the last word, with such distaste that Anakin set the ship to autopilot and strolled over.

"Why did you run?" Anakin asked immediately. Araminta slightly turned her head to look at him, the thin trail of silver blood on her head from where Obi-wan had struck her catching the light.

"Did it look like I was winning? I'm not stupid. Taking on two Jedi without a lightsabre is dumb," Araminta reasoned, yet also partly lied.

"Even for someone sensitive to the Force?" Obi-wan questioned. He knew she was holding back.

Araminta rolled her eyes. "Do the math. I have three knives; you have a plasma blade that can cut through any material." There was a moment of silence as the two Jedi debated how to break their stubborn prisoner.

"Who put the hit on me?" Obi-wan sounded calm about the fact, not at all desperate or riled up about an assassin being hired to take him out. He probably had a lot of enemies. Not that anyone _real_ had placed the hit on him, she knew that much.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Araminta responded, coolly.

"Just answer the question," Anakin growled. Araminta's eyes flicked down to see his hand tightly bandaged but she didn't feel proud of the wound she had inflicted.

"Which one?" she said, lifting her monochrome eyes back up to meet Anakin's blue.

" _Any_ of them," Anakin hissed, and Araminta was _now_ proud, for both getting under his skin and dodging invasive questions in the interrogation. If that's what this could be called, anyway.

"Make me, _young one_ ," Araminta challenged, slipping into her native Adanyan tongue for the last two words. The language was smooth, with elegant words that rolled easily off the tongue, though it lacked the hard 'k' or 'c' sound.

"What did you just call me?" Anakin demanded, apparently smart enough to know she was making fun of him, which only added fuel to the fire.

" _Wouldn't you like to know_ ," Araminta replied in Adanyan, her natural accent easily melding with the language while it stuck out when speaking normally in the universal tongue. Anakin lunged forward, hand on his sabre hilt at his hip. Obi-wan stopped him, roughly, while Araminta leaned back, a smug smirk on her face.

"Anakin, relax," Obi-wan instructed in a tone that suggested outbursts like this were common. The padawan took a few deep breathes, closing his eyes for an extended period of time. He opened them, significantly calmer, and glared harshly at Araminta. The girl tilted her head innocently and he turned away. "We're here," Obi-wan announced abruptly.

Araminta craned her neck but couldn't see anything distinct from the helm. "Where?" she decided to pipe up.

"Coruscant," Obi-wan surprisingly replied.

"Should've left her guessing," Anakin mumbled, Araminta hearing only due to her large ears.

"Take her," Obi-wan instructed. Anakin looked less than pleased, but approached her once the ship landed. Araminta looked up at him as he slid a piece of cloth over her head and down to her mouth, effectively gagging her. She smirked at him through it, but the boy ignored the look, hauling Araminta to her feet, gripping her forearm with his good hand. He wasn't rough, nor was he gentle, as he lead her out the ship.

"You're going to be placed before the Council for trial," Anakin told her. Araminta turned her head to glare at him again, her eyes zeroing in on the cut on his throat that she'd also inflicted hours earlier.

Araminta was led away from the ship and into a building, surrounded by hundreds of towering peaks to create a city. The two Jedi with her were greeted formally, while Araminta was only shot dirty looks by any guards or citizens they passed.

"What's an Octavian doing here?" one of the onlookers murmured, their eyes focusing on Araminta's exposed right shoulder where her brand was. It was an ugly thing; a scar she had burnt onto her own skin, bright white against her dark blue skin. It depicted the image of an inverted triangle, overlapped with an infinity sign – though Araminta had always thought it looked more like the number eight.

The girl's muscles tensed, and she felt Anakin's grip on her tighten. "Don't," he whispered, so tall he had to lean down to speak into her ear. Araminta's muscles didn't relax, but she also didn't move forward, and instead continued on her way.

The hallways she was led through were all filled with light, large windows on every available space of wall. Araminta tried not to stare at the view or the city too often, but she couldn't help herself. After a life running around planets trying to kill targets or training in confined facilities, the girl wasn't used to the buzz she now found herself surrounded by.

Araminta was escorted up a staircase, before she and the two Jedi arrived in the most brightly-lit room she'd seen so far. She could see the entire city view from where she stood, vehicles moving around in the bustle of daily life. Araminta looked around, finding herself surrounded by twelve people all sitting in a circle. The Adané girl chewed on her bottom lip.

" _This_ is the assassin?" a dark-skinned man asked. Araminta's eyes flicked to him, narrowing.

"Yes. We found her on the planet Pandora, Master Windu," Obi-Wan informed the man and the Council as a whole. Anakin gently nudged Araminta, forcing her to step forward and walk till she was in the centre of the room and the twelve. Anakin kept a firm hold on her as he reached his other hand up, removing the gag from her mouth and letting it fall around her throat. "She is an Octavian, judging by the brand on her right shoulder," Obi-wan continued.

"The Octavian have eluded us for far too long," another member spoke up, their voice soft but still gaining the attention of everyone in the room. Araminta held her chin high, almost offended by the way they referred to her allegiance as if it was a species of its own.

Anakin cleared his throat, and when no one gave any indication that he'd done anything wrong, he spoke up, "What's an Octavian?" Araminta almost sneered at the fact he didn't know.

"It's a who," Obi-Wan told his student. He stepped forward, coming to stand in front of Anakin and Araminta. "Vestor Octavian, the man wanted throughout the galaxy for assassination and kidnapping. He's known for taking in children at young ages and training them up to be assassins-for-hire."

Anakin's hold on Araminta tightened considerably, and she let out a snort. "I'm not with Octavian anymore," she spoke up, voice strong and unwavering besides the situation. Obi-wan look at her, caught off guard at her finally divulging some sort of useful information.

She wasn't sure why she finally spoke up. She could've held up against more interrogation and any means of torture, she had been trained in harsher conditions. But a large part of Araminta had drifted from Octavian, and her loyalty had shifted from him to herself, and right now keeping quiet would only do her in worse, Octavian be damned.

"She speaks," a council member mused. Araminta shot him a glare. "So, where is Octavian?"

"Did you _not_ just hear me?" Araminta scoffed, earning offended looks by a couple of the council members. "I'm not with him anymore."

"Why not?" Obi-Wan demanded, sounding frustrated by the lack of information the girl could give. Personally, she was frustrated by his ability to understand what she was saying.

"You're still alive, aren't you?" Araminta said, her voice low as she looked Obi-Wan directly in the eye. "That means I failed my mission," she explained. She clicked her tongue, trying to appear nonchalant. "Octavian doesn't appreciate failures."

A new look came over Obi-Wan's face. It was brief, and only slight, but Araminta caught it. It was sympathy. "What's your name?" he asked, his tone significantly softer than the last time he'd spoken to her.

"Araminta Solariin," she finally told him.

"Okay, Araminta, where is Octavian? He wasn't on the planet we found you," Obi-Wan said, regarding Araminta carefully, his voice calmer now.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Araminta told the Jedi, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. The girl felt Anakin shift beside her so he was looking at her face, but she didn't turn her head to look at him. "I don't know where Octavian would've gone."

Obi-Wan looked thoughtful. "Why did you try and kill me?"

"With a haircut like that, who wouldn't?" Araminta remarked. Anakin gave Araminta a look, and the Adané girl sighed, "Octavian gave me an anonymous job. It was a good pay, in-and-out assassination; easy stuff. Nothing I hadn't done before. I didn't question who put the hit on you."

"Holding back something, you are," a small, green council member spoke up, his voice gravelly from age. Araminta's eyes hardened.

"I wasn't told that I was going after a Jedi knight," Araminta admitted, unable to keep the bitter taste of betrayal out of her voice. "None of us were ever sent after Jedi without warning, it was considered too dangerous if we didn't succeed. Even then, we barely were."

The girl had worked herself up, her voice becoming slightly desperate as she spoke. She was desperate for answers. Sure, Araminta had failed the mission, but when she put everything together it looked like that was always meant to happen.

"Is there any way to find out who sent the order?" Windu asked, his tone clipped, harshly breaking Araminta from her desperation.

"You'd have to find Octavian's space station, his main base of operations. And knowing how smart that asshole is he would've moved it by now," Araminta told the Council. "He doesn't take one of us getting caught lightly."

"We've, uh, noticed that," Obi-Wan said, cautiously. With a questioning look from Anakin, the older Jedi elaborated. "Any Octavian that we have caught in the past found a way to end their own life before they could tell us anything. That, or they were killed by their own before we could get to them."

"Sounds about right," Araminta responded, trying to keep her voice steady and her tone calm.

"How do we know you didn't _let_ yourself get caught? How come no one has come to kill you yet?" Windu said, sharply.

" _I don't know_ ," Araminta snapped. The man reeled back, looking shocked by her nerve. "Why don't you probe my mind or something? Then, tell me I'm lying," she challenged.

"Telling the truth, you are," the green man spoke up after a moment of silence, and his lips twitched upwards in a small smile. Araminta bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at her feet.

"Master, what will happen to her?" Anakin spoke up, his grip on Araminta finally ceasing as his hand slipped from her arm.

"She will be punished," Obi-Wan said, though he sounded sad about the idea. Araminta was unsurprised– she'd expected a punishment.

"What?" Anakin objected. Araminta looked at him, surprised. The rest of council had similar reactions. "She didn't do anything."

"She tried to kill a Jedi," Obi-Wan said, firmly. "She tried to kill both you _and_ I. Unless, you've forgotten."

"She wasn't going to. You were there, you saw her run," Anakin persisted.

"She held a knife to your throat," Obi-wan pointed out.

"She wouldn't have done it," Anakin shook his head. "I saw it in her eyes, she wouldn't have been able to do it." Araminta watched on in confusion as the young Jedi spoke against the council in her favour, completely caught off guard by the action.

"Then what do _you_ propose should happen to her, young Skywalker?" a council member asked, carefully.

Anakin looked nervous as he stepped forward, his shoulders heaving as he inhaled deeply before speaking. "For attempting to end the life of a Jedi knight, I believe Araminta Solariin should now work to _preserve_ the life of a Jedi knight." No one had objected yet. "She should act as a…bodyguard, of sorts, to my master."

"And what if she doesn't? What if young Solariin decides she doesn't _want_ to listen to the people she tried to kill?" the former council member wondered out loud. The other members all exchanged looks or nodded in agreement. Araminta kept silent, knowing that was the best thing she could do in the current situation.

"Then she gets punished," Anakin declared, the words sounding heavy. "If she's smart," Anakin sent Araminta a look, "then she knows not to attempt anything again."

"Agree to these terms, do you?" the green man said, his eyes trained on Araminta who was having a hard time processing what was happening.

The girl considered what she was doing. Handing herself over to a new allegiance, avoiding the punishment one would usually get for attacking a Jedi. She already knew her answer, even if she didn't like it, it was the best option she was getting right now if she wanted to both stay alive _and_ out of Octavian's reach.

"Yes," she relented.

"Do you, Obi Wan, agree with the terms set about your would-be assassin?" Araminta decided she didn't like Windu, his tone giving away his obvious distaste for the choice made about the assassin's fate.

With a hard look from Anakin, the Jedi master nodded. "Yes."

"Then, it is settled," another council member said, sounding reluctant. They stood up, and the others followed. "You shall protect and follow orders from Master Obi-Wan Kenobi until we see fit to make up for your crimes against him and his padawan." The council member scanned everyone in the room, almost daring them to speak up. No one did. "Dismissed."

Anakin turned to Araminta almost immediately, taking a step towards her. "You're welcome," he told her.

"Why would you do that?" she questioned, her voice coming out harsher than she'd meant it to.

Anakin looked confused. "What, save your life?" Araminta nodded, and the padawan just shrugged, like defying his Council was nothing.

The Adané girl stared at him in disbelief. "You're so naïve, Skywalker."

"And why's that?"

"I was trained to kill, why would you invite me to fight alongside you _noble knights_?" Araminta tried to hide her genuine curiosity behind a mask of fire and bitterness, succeeding fairly well.

Anakin's expression shifted. "Because I saw you run. I saw you change your mind and try to get away," "Tell me why a ruthless assassin would do _that_?"

 _Because her master betrayed her_. Araminta didn't voice her thoughts, and instead remarked, "One day your tendency to see the good in everyone will get you killed, Skywalker," Araminta remarked, though she couldn't meet his eyes, feeling too humbled by one of the first people to ever risk themselves for her.

Anakin just look down at her. "We'll see about that, Solariin."

* * *

 **A/N: well here's a new story. whoops? not much to say here, just a classic introduction/prologue for the character and her place in the story. i am, admittedly, quite proud of araminta's plot, and my main goal was to veer away from the padme replacement and fellow jedi ocs for anakin so.. here we are _!_ the adané race is also my creation and anything pertaining to them as well. please review and let me know your thoughts _!_**


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